Fishing for tadpoles
by Pinkjimmychoos
Summary: Just as it sounds. Draco spends some quality time with five-year old Scorpius with a tiny bit of Astoria thrown in. Post DH one-shot. Kind of fluffy I suppose. Part of my “father-son” series of stories.


**Fishing for tadpoles**

**Summary: **Just as it sounds. Draco spends some quality time with five-year old Scorpius with a tiny bit of Astoria thrown in. Drabbly one-shot. Kind of fluffy I suppose. Part of my "father-son" series of stories.

**Rating: **K+

**Disclaimer: **The characters don't belong to me; they're all JK Rowling's. I just like to play with them now and again.

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The slow-moving river water was muddy and cold. _Bitterly_ cold actually for a usually mild September and overhead the sky was laden with thick, grey clouds that threatened a highly imminent downpour.

Perfect. Just perfect. Whose idea _was_ this, anyway?

Draco Malfoy could feel the dank river water ominously curling around his toes, despite the bright green wellingtons he was wearing (courtesy of Astoria), which he was bloody_ sure_ were now leaking, and the liquid seeping into the hem of his waxy trousers.

Water-proof? _Hah._

Had Draco been in a better frame of mind and not so disgruntled by the cold, he may have actually recalled the fact that he was a wizard and cast a quick water-proofing charm on himself, but as it was, he was far too preoccupied with watching his son enjoy himself in the water to think logically. Not to mention that his wand was buried beneath layers of clothing and a bit hard to place with freezing cold fingers.

"I can see one!" his five-year-old son Scorpius suddenly beamed excitedly, pointing into the swirling water with one chubby finger and splashing his own tiny blue wellingtons amongst the jutting reeds, his quest finally fulfilled, "I can see a tadpole, daddy! Right there!"

Scorpius leaned over so far he was almost face-first in the river, eyeing the tiny amphibian eagerly, and despite the water not being _remotely_ deep, Draco had sudden nightmarish visions of having to explain to his wife exactly _why_ their son was soaking wet and up to the eyeballs in mud and river slime, hastily sploshing forwards to stop Scorpius literally shoving his head under the water for closer examination.

Not that it would bother Scorpius one bit of course, being soaked to the skin. He actually _liked_ being caked in mud, dirty rain water, slushy snow, gritty sand and all manner of naturally occurring environmental phenomena that sometimes made Draco shudder in disbelief; though perhaps he _would _have been more used to it had he himself grown up in an environment where such frivolity and light-hearted enjoyment was permitted. The idea of _Lucius_ Malfoy fishing for tadpoles or sploshing around in the mud with _him_ however was ridiculous to say the least. _That _would only have happened had Lucius been under the imperious curse, and even then he'd have probably rebelled against it.

Lucius Malfoy and "fun" weren't words that were synonymous after all.

Come to think of it, Draco mused idly, smiling as Scorpius beamed back up at him toothily, he'd never imagined _himself_ on this kind of particular afternoon outing either. Trips to museums and art galleries with his offspring he'd foreseen, definitely- when Tori had informed him she was pregnant, he'd imagined that he'd raise his child with a particular reverence for culture just as he had been brought up to appreciate, but young Scorpius had surprised him with his visible distaste at 'boring' museums, much preferring jaunts to the seaside and the rough and tumble of treks through the fields or hide and seek in the park. Draco had given up on trying to have his way when it came to family outings, but found much to his amusement that he rather _liked_ the sticky toffee apples and fluffy pink candyfloss served at muggle funfairs and he was becoming an expert at finding sneaky hiding places in the park too.

Funny the way life worked out sometimes, wasn't it?

Scorpius for instance, was the complete opposite of himself in so many ways, the ways it really counted, Draco had realised. The two of them might _look_ remarkably alike, from the platinum hair to the pointy chins and icy grey eyes, but personality wise, the genes had certainly stumbled.

Draco had grown up in an oppressive, rather strict environment; Lucius Malfoy's philosophy had certainly seemed to be that 'children should _not_ be seen and _not_ be heard' and as a consequence, Draco had been a withdrawn and rather sullen child. Spoiled, granted, but only by the army of house elves and his doting mother. Fatherly relations had certainly been lacking. Lucius had scarcely been present during his childhood at all, and certainly not for the dirty nappies, teething, bathing or bedtime stories phase.

Draco had never wanted his son to feel the same way and grow up resenting _him_. Scorpius was bright, inquisitive and a constant ball of mischief and not one fibre of his being would allow Draco to quash his son's natural enthusiasm for life. He relished their closeness and hoped they would always have such a good relationship- he, Tori and Scorp. The new generation of Malfoy's.

"Daddy, my wellington is stuck in the mud," Scorpius suddenly announced with a proud grin, pulling him from his thoughts, "it's all slimy." He waggled his free foot to demonstrate, as he gestured to his left leg, which did indeed seem to be completely stationary.

Draco obligingly shuffled closer on a bid to free his son's foot, but then gasped as his own wellington slipped on a muddy stone, unsettling his feet from the gritty riverbed that mere seconds ago had seemed so level and safe. Arms flailing, Draco's eyes widened in sudden panic, but there was absolutely nothing to grab hold of to prevent himself from slipping and falling forwards.

"Aieee!" the sound that left Draco's mouth as he suddenly tumbled face first into the freezing cold river, was rather high-pitched and girlish; and as he spat slimy pond weed and muddy river water from his mouth, spluttering incredulously before his sons awed eyes, he was glad only Scorpius had been there to bare witness to this rather humiliating moment.

"Are you ok daddy?" Scorpius asked uncertainly, somehow successfully managing to free his own foot and trudging over to him now, surefooted and capable and eyeing him with five-year-old concern. "That was a big splash and a very loud scream. You have pond weed on your chin."

_'Scream_,' not shout, Draco noted with some amusement his son's words as he wiped his drenched face. Only _girl's_ screamed.

Really, the situation was entirely too ridiculous for words, Draco suddenly realised convulsing with helpless laughter, finally becoming aware that he was sat on his bum on a riverbed in freezing cold water up to his neck. Lucius Malfoy would have had a fit to see a usually dignified Malfoy brought to his knees in such a way.

"Can I swim too?" Scorpius asked him hopefully, eyeing the water and somewhat relieved by his father's amusement. He was glad he didn't seem cross to be soaking wet like that. Then again, his dad fell over lots and got a lot dirtier than he did sometimes. Accidentally of course.

"No you can't 'swim too!'" Draco chided him, struggling to his feet and eyeing himself with exasperation, "your mum will bloody kill me as it is!"

"Another time then?" Scorpius asked, smiling sweetly as he shuffled after his father to the grassy riverbank.

Draco was unable to suppress his own smile as he helped his son out of the water; "maybe," he said as he squeezed out his sodden jacket, tutting at how much water dripped from it.

Scorpius couldn't hide his beam nor his glinting eyes and Draco suddenly felt suspicious at the remarkably Slytherin-type grin that had appeared on his little face all of a sudden; "that mean's _yes_."

…

Draco cringed however as they walked back to the cottage, his sodden layers of clothing now clinging to his slender frame with every squelchy step he took and his toes literally drenched inside his boots; there was probably a few tadpoles swimming around in there too. Astoria would have a field day with this one. He could imagine her laughter now. She always teased him over the misadventures he and Scorpius seemed to have, him usually being the worst off.

Scorpius scampered excitedly at his heels, hopping from foot to foot; "can't you cast a drying spell, daddy?" he questioned sensibly, tilting his head.

Draco scowled, _logic from the mouths of babes_; "I would, Scorp, if my wand wasn't now soaking wet too. Any spell I cast now will most likely malfunction and could possibly result in either you or me eating slugs."

"Oh." A few seconds later and then the incessant hopping started up again; "what do slugs taste like, daddy?"

"Slimy," Draco suppressed another sudden laugh as a long buried memory resurfaced. Weasel, Potty and the quidditch pitch… gods, that had been a simply _brilliant_ day.

"What are you laughing about, daddy?" Scorpius enquired, his eyes wide at seeing the smirk.

"I'll tell you another time," Draco promised; _Merlin, so many questions!_

"Is it another Hogwarts story?" Scorpius simply _loved_ to hear tales of his father's old school.

"Maybe."

"I hope it is," Scorpius pondered, slipping his little hand in his much bigger one, "I like your Hogwarts fairytales."

Draco smiled, some relief filling him as he finally saw their cottage in the distance, for his toes were beginning to numb inside the wellingtons; "me too Scorp, me too."

…

Astoria had just flooed home from St Mungo's where she worked as a healer, and was preparing to make dinner in the kitchen when she heard the telltale voices- one excited and one dignified and calming, that suggested her son and husband had arrived home from their afternoon trek. About time too, she stole a quick look out of the kitchen window at an overcast sky filled with rainclouds hoping they hadn't been caught in the storm.

"Tori?" Draco's voice still had the power to send warmth from her ears to the tips of her toes, even after seven years of marriage and she loved him for it.

"In here darling," Astoria called back, flicking her wand to light the stove, as the maelstrom of pots and pans started busying themselves. Two flicks later and the vegetables were being sliced and the pork chops were lightly grilling.

Two steps of footsteps clattered along the hall and into the kitchen and Astoria turned, then instantly had to bite her lip to stop herself from bursting into laughter. After everything, Draco _still _didn't respond very well to teasing, even when it was meant nicely and he could be easily offended, but it certainly looked like he'd been caught in _some_ sort of rainstorm. He was soaking wet and dripping muddy water droplets all over the wooden floor.

Astoria's lips pressed into a bemused smile instead as she regarded her husband and son, setting down her oven gloves on the kitchen bench and trying to appear blase; "oh, I can see that _someone's_ had a rather good time today." She always loved seeing Scorpius looking so happy after spending the day with his father, despite the fact that Draco usually came home bruised, damp and dirty.

"Hi mummy," Scorpius beamed up at her sweetly, his grey eyes angelic, "we went paddling in the river!"

"I can see that, I'm very sorry I missed it." Astoria brushed a kiss to his pale forehead suppressing a smile at her husband's disgruntled huff as she cast him a pointed smirk; "go and wash your hands and change out of your wet things, Scorp and then you can tell me _all _about it. Dinner's almost ready…" as their son clambered happily and quickly up to the bathroom, she faced Draco, unable to suppress her laughter now, brushing a sodden strand of hair off his own forehead; "paddling?" she teased him, smiling mischievously as she scrubbed at a splash of mud on the tip of his left ear, "it looks to me like someone's been _swimming_. You look adorable, Draco."

"I fell in and I look like a bloody drowned rat," Draco replied sulkily, wiping at his dirty brow and tutting once more, "it's those damn wellingtons you got me, I feel like my feet are encased in cement and I can't walk properly in them! And I'm _sure _they were leaking!" he grumbled under his breath, holding back expletives as he pulled off his waxy jacket and hung it on the coat peg and kicked off his boots, struggling all the while. Then he finally smiled his familiar wide smile and Astoria knew that everything was ok; "actually, despite the leaking boots, I rather enjoyed the day and Scorp had a good time too. That's what matters."

"I think that leaking boots are the _least_ of your concern at the moment," Astoria eyed his sodden jumper speculatively now, an idea looming, "go on upstairs and get changed, darling, before you get pneumonia. I'll join you shortly."

"I'm just a bit damp," Draco scowled petulantly again, looking remarkably like Scorpius did when he didn't want to eat his vegetables, "no need to fuss, Tori."

Astoria rolled her brown eyes at how unusually slow he was being this evening. Maybe the river water had diluted his brain capacity; "go upstairs," she repeated slowly, "have a hot shower or a bath, and when Scorpius is tucked up in bed, I'll _join_ you."

Draco shook his head to rid the remaining drops of water from his ears, _sure_ he still had pond weed between his teeth, "what about dinner?" he asked sulkily, _still_ not cottoning on to what she'd said.

"We can eat it in bed," she ran a coaxing hand over his arm knowing she'd have to spell it out for him now, as clearly the unexpected tumble into the river had traumatised him and affected his thinking, "if you _want_ to, that is."

Sudden light dawned in Draco's grey eyes; "oh," he said with a sudden smirk, "well… if you _insist_…" as he headed upstairs, almost as quickly as Scorpius had yet for very different reasons, he got the feeling that he wouldn't mind getting wet and muddy again in the near future after all if it got him this kind of attention from his wife. Infact, he was already planning his son's _next_ little adventure.

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**A/N: **Please review! :)


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